Emma's Story
by EmmaShalt
Summary: This is the story of Emma Shalt.


It had been months since Father McKinney had been murdered inside the church, but Emma Shalt found herself thinking about him on a daily basis. She had never been an active member of his parish, but she had been faithful to her daily confessional with him. She had lived in Boston her entire life, and he had been the only one who had shown any concern for her since her parents died three years before in a car accident.

~Three years before~

Emma was twenty-five years old and struggling to make ends meet. She was a high school graduate, but she had never had any inclination to go to college. She had worked odd jobs – fast food or department stores – but nothing that enabled her to keep all of her bills paid. After her parents died, the bills piled even higher with their unpaid medical bills and the cost of their funeral.

She first talked to Gorgeous George in the grocery store. He had approached as she was leaving the check out, offering to help her load the bags into her car. She had been so taken back by the unexpected gesture that she had accepted without thinking. He had offered to buy her a drink, and she had ended up getting drunk – and spilling all of her worries out to a stranger.

"If it's money you need, I know a perfect job for you," Gorgeous had said. "Have you ever been a waitress before?"

Emma nodded. "Not since high school, but yes, I have."

Gorgeous pulled out a business card and handed it to her. "Go to this address tomorrow morning and tell them Gorgeous sent you."

Before she knew what was happening, she had a new job. She became a waitress at Bachelor Party HQ, one of the most famous strip clubs in South Boston. She hated the way the men grabbed her and the way the manager tried to get her to become a dancer, too – but it paid the bills a lot better. She made more money in one night of tips alone than she had in three shifts at any other job she had ever had.

Emma had been working at Bachelor Party HQ for three months. She was carrying a heavy tray of drinks over to a bunch of guys that were in the club for a bachelor party.

"Why are they hiding a hot thing like you down here?" one of the guys inquired, grabbing her ass firmly.

"Get your hands off me!" she shouted, turning to face him and shoving his hand off of her.

The man just laughed drunkenly, grabbing her and pulling her onto his lap.

Emma shoved against his chest, reaching back and punching him. "Let me go, asshole!"

"What's going on here?"

Emma looked over and saw one of the bartenders approaching. "He refuses to let me go."

The man yanked Emma off the customer's lap and then picked him up by his neck. "You'll want to be leaving now, and you'll never want me to find you in here again. You don't fucking touch our girls unless we say so."

Emma crossed her arms over herself as she watched the exchange, smiling slightly at the bartender when he turned to face her again. "Thanks... umm..."

"Tony," he introduced himself. "You're Emma, right?"

Emma nodded.

Tony laughed as he put a hand on her elbow and guided her over to the bar. He poured her a shot. "Drink up," he instructed, studying her. "You know, that asshole was right about you dancing. You should consider it."

She shuddered. "No, thank you. Waitressing is more than enough."

Tony shrugged. "Your choice, babe, but the bouncers keep a closer eye on the dancers than they do the waitresses. You wouldn't have so much to worry about up there."

Three weeks later, and Emma was one of the dancers at Bachelor Party HQ. She was one of only three who refused to go totally nude, but she still hated herself for what she was doing. She felt dirty all of the time.

It was about this time that she found herself walking into the parish. She had never been inside of a Catholic church before. She sat down on a pew about halfway up the aisle and looked around nervously. The place was one of the most beautiful places she had ever seen, and she felt unworthy of being there. Just as she was getting ready to leave, a priest approached her.

"May I help you, my child?"

Emma stammered as she spoke, jumping quickly to her feet. "N-no. I shouldn't have c-come in here. I'm sorry."

"Please sit back down," the priest instructed quietly but insistently. "Every one is welcome here."

She sat back down, burying her face in her hands, laughing ironically. "I think I've sold my soul to the devil just to be able to put food on my table."

The priest sat down beside her. "Would you care to elaborate on that?"

Emma looked over at him with a sigh. "I'm a dancer at Bachelor Party HQ."

"I see," the priest spoke. "That doesn't necessarily mean that you've sold your soul." He studies her for a few moments. "Is there a particular reason you've chosen to work there?"

"It pays my bills better than any job I've ever had," Emma admitted. She sighed. "Look, Father. I appreciate you talking to me, but I've got to go."

The priest offered her his hand. "My name is Father McKinney. Please come back and see me any time you feel the need to talk about anything. I'm always here for those in need."

Two and a half years went by before she found out who owned Bachelor Party HQ. She hardly saw Gorgeous anymore, and Tony was always busy. She had only heard rumors about Concezio Yakavetta about how he had taken over after his father had been executed by the Saints, finding out that Gorgeous and Tony both worked for the younger Yakavetta.

As soon as she found out the truth, Emma had immediately started making plans to leave the club. She had enough money saved that she felt she could make it. She only spent what was necessary. She began talking to another dancer, Tara, who didn't seem happy to be working there either. Together, they made plans to leave.

"We've got to be careful how we do it," Tara insisted as they sat in a coffee shop after a night at work. "They're getting so picky since Yakavetta was killed."

"Shut up!" Emma whispered fiercely, glancing around the almost deserted interior. "I'd feel a lot safer discussing this somewhere else."

"What about your parish?" Tara suggested. "Would that Father friend of yours let us talk in there?"

Emma nodded. "Father McKinney has been wanting me to get away from the club for two years now. He won't mind if we make our plans there."

Unfortunately, when the two women approached the parish they found it blocked off. Something terrible had happened. They both listened to a nearby reporter as he spoke about a priest being murdered in a Saint-like way. He wasn't naming names, but Emma knew. Somehow, she knew. It was Father McKinney. The one friend she had made, besides Tara, was gone.

A few days went by, and then the murders started just like they did before. The Saints were back, and they were making the people responsible for Father McKinney's death pay for it. Emma wanted nothing more than to be able to see them and thank them face to face, but she knew that was impossible. Tony would kill her, for one thing. He was getting more and more possessive every day.

To make matters worse, Tara went missing three days after Father McKinny was murdered. Emma had no idea where she was. Things at work were getting more and more tense as Yakavetta tightened security everywhere.

One morning a few weeks later, she sat at her kitchen table reading the paper while drinking a cup of coffee. Yakavetta was dead, killed by the Saints in his own suite at The Prudential.

The main headline of the paper told of the arrest of the Saints, along with someone named Romeo. She sighed. Several of Yakavetta's men were still free on the streets, and the three people who tried to stop them were locked behind bars. It made no sense to her.

She noticed a small article on one of the inside pages about the body of a young, unidentified, woman and felt ice slide into the pit of her stomach. She jumped when someone knocked on her door, going over and seeing Tony through the peephole. She debated letting him in.

"Open up right now, Emma!" Tony called through the door, and she knew she had no choice. He pushed his way in as soon as she began to open the door. "Did you see the paper yet?"

Emma nodded. "They won't bother you anymore now, right? The police arrested them."

"We're not taking any chances." He stopped by her table, looking down at the article about the dead woman. He looked back up at her with a sneer. "And no one is leaving. Got that?"

She swallowed hard as the ice in her stomach hardened into a knot. She knew the threat he was implying. "I got it, Tony."


End file.
